Chapter 40: Great Principles Revealed in Small Details

Zhu Yuanzhang observed Zhang Yi. Upon seeing him, Zhang Yi’s expression betrayed not the slightest displeasure over their last encounter.
He felt a surge of admiration—this child’s temperament truly set him apart.

Pretending to remain composed, Zhu Yuanzhang said,
“What’s the matter? It’s been over a month—can I not come to see you?”
“You must be joking, Uncle. You’re my meal ticket in Ying Tian Prefecture. If you didn’t come to see me, I’d starve to death!”
Meal ticket?

Though he didn’t quite grasp the term, Zhu Yuanzhang sensed that Zhang Yi genuinely held no grudge over the previous incident, and his mood eased. He then ordered the guards outside to carry in one box after another.

This time, Zhu Yuanzhang had brought a total of fifty large chests, which were arranged within the temple.
Fifty great chests—an impressive sight indeed.

Watching the boxes being opened one by one, Zhang Yi could not help but gasp.
“You even managed to get quartz sand, Uncle Huang—you’re remarkable!”

When Zhang Yi had given Huang He a list of items, he hadn’t held out much hope for many of them.
The flow of goods and people in the Ming dynasty was tightly controlled; acquiring rare materials was exceedingly difficult. He had tried before at Mount Longhu to little avail.

Now, though the contents of the boxes were not abundant, they were comprehensive enough.
Zhang Yi’s eyes sparkled—he was genuinely excited!

This scene did not escape Zhu Yuanzhang’s notice, and he felt a touch of pride. If Zhang Yi remained indifferent to everything, he would have to be wary of the boy; but since he had desires, he could be used.

Zhu Yuanzhang said,
“If you need anything from these, just ask. Your uncle still has some connections!”

“Thank you, Uncle. I’ll need more garlic!”

“What do you need garlic for?”

Zhu Yuanzhang was intrigued. He knew Zhang Yi possessed many unusual talents—could garlic be used for alchemy as well?

Zhang Yi merely smiled, saying nothing, and Zhu Yuanzhang wisely refrained from pressing him further.

“Senior Brother, make a pot of tea for us!”

Zhang Yi instructed Deng Zhongxiu to organize the materials, and led Zhu Biao and his son to the courtyard.

Deng Zhongxiu brewed the tea and filled their cups, while Zhang Yi sipped his plain boiled water.

There had been mention of this in confidential reports; Zhu Yuanzhang had already noticed this small habit of Zhang Yi.

“Why don’t you drink tea?” Zhu Yuanzhang asked, feigning casualness.

“I’m still young, I don’t drink tea.”

“But the mountain spring water is so clear and sweet. Yet you drink boiled water—is there a reason for this?”

This was the real question Zhu Yuanzhang wanted answered. Zhang Yi didn’t think twice before replying,

“Because there are insects in the water…”

He had spoken of this to Madam Chang before, so there was no need to hide it from Zhu Yuanzhang; and given their relationship, he could share even more.

“The water is crystal clear—why can’t I see any insects? Did you see something in a dream again?”

Zhang Yi nodded.

“I saw in the Celestial Book that in the future world, two nations go to war. One destroys the other with minuscule, invisible worms; the other counters it by boiling water. This method is not some mystical art, but something that can be verified in later generations.”

Zhang Yi recounted the details of a future event—a piece of history familiar to most people from his previous life, for it had profoundly changed their existence.

Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Biao listened to Zhang Yi’s tale of what would happen in China in centuries to come, finding it all rather absurd.

Were it not for Zhang Yi’s previous proven abilities, Zhu Yuanzhang would not have believed a word of it.

Yet, even in a few brief sentences, Zhang Yi left a deep impression.

“Though deception in warfare is common, this is the act of scoundrels! I—truly despise such methods!”
Zhu Yuanzhang condemned these tactics fiercely. Though the art of war is ever-changing—using water, fire, seduction, or even massacre to instill terror and reduce the cost of conquest—he could understand most methods.

But what Zhang Yi described went beyond any acceptable boundary.

It left no chance for ordinary people to survive. Having once been a refugee himself, Zhu Yuanzhang empathized deeply and grew more enraged.

Zhu Biao agreed, nodding; such warfare was not worthy of a righteous army.

The future war between two nations was, for Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Biao, a distant prospect. Yet from Zhang Yi’s story, Zhu Yuanzhang began to see that boiling water was no simple matter.

So a method capable of annihilating a nation could be thwarted by something as simple as boiling water?

Zhu Yuanzhang found it increasingly miraculous.

“Is boiling water really so effective?”

The emperor could not help but ask. Zhang Yi smiled,

“In small things, one may glimpse the great. The finest ingredients often need only the purest cooking method, and many remarkable solutions are deceptively ordinary… Uncle Huang, I’m not exaggerating—if everyone in the world drank boiled water, tens of thousands of people would survive each year!”

Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Biao were moved. If this were true, it was no small matter.

Knowing Zhu Yuanzhang’s skepticism, Zhang Yi briefly explained the basics of microorganisms, bacteria, and viruses, and how boiling water could prevent numerous diseases.

At least, for diseases related to contaminated water—cholera, dysentery, typhoid, hepatitis, poliomyelitis—some of which, in ancient times, were known as plagues…

“After every great disaster comes a great plague, and very often it’s caused by polluted water…”

Zhu Yuanzhang’s question had been casual, but after Zhang Yi revealed the reasoning, both father and son could not sit still.

Plague had always been the bane of rulers.

When plague broke out in a region, it claimed countless lives, and in this era, it was nearly constant.

Population movement was limited, so outbreaks tended to be small. But when disaster struck and people began to migrate, massive plagues would sweep provinces.

How many died each year from plagues? No one knew it better than Zhu Yuanzhang. These subjects were all potential contributors to the Ming state’s taxes.

The emperor’s eyes gleamed.

“The greatest truths are often the simplest. Sometimes, the solution is so straightforward?”

Zhu Biao sighed in admiration, already picturing the flourishing future of Ming once the decree for boiling water was implemented.

But when he came back to himself, he found Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhang Yi staring at him with a peculiar expression.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Zhang Yi, you tell him…”

Zhu Yuanzhang shook his head. For Zhu Biao to utter such words showed how much he still had to learn.

Zhang Yi replied,

“The people suffer! Brother Huang was born to wealth, but he forgets that for ordinary folk, gathering firewood to boil water is no easy task.”

Zhu Biao blushed, embarrassed to be corrected not only by his father, but to find himself outdone by a seven-year-old child.

PS: The original chapter 40 was blocked. The author has revised and reposted it! If the old chapter is released, I’ll delete this one!